Incell

intergalactic vibes. storytime from the past. my grandfather always had a tight flow. i could listen to that dude for hours. i can't talk to him anymore, so i played some recordings i made last fall prior to his passing this past january. he certainly saved the best stories for last. those which were untold were never asked about. the southern way has evolved from passing along spoken word, family history and tradition into grizzled silence and sheltered privacy.

shaking this nocturnal existence slowly. it is nice to see the sunrise without the fog of sleep in my body.

saw a baby fox this morning. couldn't have been more than 8 inches tall, tail already bushy and thick. small face, like a kitten. tall ears. trying in vain to catch chipmunks. he'll learn. he was curious about me. i could see him sniffing the air, going through his generational catalog of instincts to figure out which category this biped falls in to. he finally found his answer and trotted off slowly to sit in the grass until i was out of sight. i heard him returning to his killing fields in an attempt to catch a trophy to show his momma.

i thought about those instincts while listening to my grandpa's words this evening. i wonder how much we shared. what he was like at my age in ways that he didn't talk about. did he have trouble sleeping. did he enjoy coffee and silence. i know he was a prodigious reader and his attention to detail on anything he built with his hands was second to none. i hear his words coming out of my mouth. sometimes, in ways no different than reciting a good line from a movie i liked, except his words are mine now...